


The Sock Thing

by Ablissa



Series: prompt fills [5]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 12:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17325368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ablissa/pseuds/Ablissa
Summary: "Phil," Dan begins and then falls silent, suddenly unsure how to proceed."Why are you giving me my sock?" Phil asks after a pause."Because it was on thekitchen counter!"(Phil leaves his socks everywhere, and it's a bit of a problem.)--for the prompt: "That's starting to get annoying."





	The Sock Thing

Phil leaves his socks. _Everywhere_.

It's taken Dan months to truly notice, and even longer to start caring. When they first moved in together, Dan was far too busy being happy to bother with stuff like that.

Sure, he noticed that Phil was a messy person, but then again, so was Dan. Dan's room back home always looked like he had a permanent natural disaster for a flatmate, so it's not like he was perfect. He wasn't perfect then, and he still isn't now.

Since moving in with Phil, he tries way harder - and judging by the general state of their flat, so does Phil. Dan remembers Phil's room back home too. Yeah, that was _a lot_ worse. Right now, they have a few dishes waiting in the sink, they have a pile of laundry they should have done last week, and they have some clothes on the bathroom floor. It's all stuff that Dan can live with, especially considering that he contributes to it too.

They made a list of rules when they started living together, including all sorts of things - amongst them, cleaning. They stick to it, more or less. So… it's not _too_ bad.

But the _socks_. The socks are starting to do his head in.

Socks on the rug. Socks on the sofa. Socks on the bed or even on the pillows. Dan doesn't know how Phil even does it, because he never once caught him in the act. The socks just appear out of nowhere, and they're not Dan's socks, they're definitely Phil's. Dan doesn't believe in the supernatural, so the sock goblin is out of the question.

 

Phil leaves his socks everywhere, and it's a bit of a problem.

 

-

 

"Should we organise our socks? I think I've lost a couple," he tries one day when they're snuggled up on the sofa, trying his hardest to sound casual.

"Oh, I keep losing them," Phil replies, oblivious. "It's the sock goblin."

Dan is smiling, voice soft, even though he's quite nervous on the inside. "Yeah, probably. But I mean, we could try and sort them out, right?"

Phil half-shrugs, but he doesn't let go of Dan, and makes no move to stand up.

"Of course, if you want." And then Phil kisses his temple, and his cheek, his jaw, his neck, and Dan forgets that they were meant to be sorting through socks.

 

-

 

The next time he tries to do something about the socks, he just goes through the entire flat, collecting socks and throwing them in the laundry. A lot are mismatched, almost all of them are Phil's.

The thing is, Dan doesn't know how to approach the subject with Phil. They never really argue, not properly, and it feels like Phil might get… sad? Upset, maybe?

It's easier if he just does it himself.

 

It's only a few days before the socks are found in the strangest of places. Dan doesn't know why they bother him, but they kind of do.

But nobody is perfect - even though in Dan's eyes, Phil is.

 

-

 

"Phil?" Dan begins as they're cooking dinner.

"Yeah?"

"I…" Dan pauses. He wants to ask about the socks, but instead, he says something else. "Do you think we should clean today?"

Phil frowns at him, tilting his head a little. "Today? It's not our cleaning day, is it? It's Sunday."

Dan releases a sharp, nervous breath. "Um, yeah, well—it is, but—"

"But?"

"I just—it's a bit messy, you know. The—like, there's like… there's… our clothes? You know?"

Phil's frown fades, giving way to worry mixed with amusement.

"Same as always, then? Dan, are you okay?" Phil rests his hand on Dan's shoulder, then pulls him into a quick side hug. "You're being a bit weird."

Dan loves it. Phil's embrace, them cooking dinner together in this small Manchester flat. And he doesn't want them to argue about socks.

So he drops it.

"No, I'm good, yeah." Dan gives Phil a peck on the cheek. "Super good."

 

-

 

Finally, the day comes when the dam breaks, and all of Dan's feelings on the sock matter are set free.

It's gotten to the point where he is less upset about the socks, and more upset about the fact that he is keeping something from Phil. He keeps playing out different versions of the conversation over and over in his head, and for whatever reason, they all end in disaster, so he avoids it.

It's not like they never argued, but it's just—it's just that Dan, despite the fact that their relationship is not _that_ new anymore, never really had to indicate that something bugged him. They fit together like two puzzle pieces; they haven't had a hard time adjusting. If they procrastinated, they did it together. If they kept a mess, they were both responsible. That was never a problem.

But the socks, that's just Phil, and it's—it's harder than expected to actually say that out loud.

 

Today, Dan is a bit grumpy. He had an argument with his mum on the phone, he slept badly, and he's hungry. And then he finds Phil's sock on the kitchen counter. The bloody _kitchen counter_. That's what finally tips the scale for him.

He isn't about to start a big argument. There'll be no screaming or anything of the sort. But maybe the sock thing had become big enough an issue for him to actually _talk_. Phil won't be mad at him.

Right?

 

Dan takes the sock and carries it over to Phil, who is sat on the sofa with his laptop, editing his new video. He unceremoniously drops it on Phil's laptop, grabbing his attention.

Phil jumps a little, stares down at the sock in confusion, then transfers that same look towards Dan.

"Phil," Dan begins and then falls silent, suddenly unsure how to proceed.

"Why are you giving me my sock?" Phil asks after a pause.

"Because it was on the _kitchen counter_!" Dan exclaims, finally finding the strength to do it without hesitating. The next thing he says sounds mild in comparison. "Your sock thing, Phil. It's… it's starting to get a bit annoying."

They look each other in the eyes - Dan looking down, Phil looking up - and say nothing for a moment. Phil seems to be bewildered. Dan, on the other hand, is almost scared of hearing Phil's response.

"My sock thing?" Phil finally repeats, perplexed.

"Yes, your sock thing. You leave your socks _everywhere_ , and I tried to get it under control, but I can't. You need—I want you to—I want you to stop."

Phil considers Dan's words for a moment, puts the laptop away and stands up, still looking Dan in the eyes.

"Why haven't you said that it's been bothering you? I knew something was off. I even asked you."

Dan breaks eye contact, looking down to the floor. "I was… I was a bit scared? I guess. I don't want to argue with you, but Phil—" He looks up again, eyes boring into Phil's. "Phil, I can't stand the sock thing. Seriously."

Phil's gaze softens as he smiles sheepishly. He cups Dan's cheek, and Dan leans into the touch.

"I'm going to try to get better, alright? Promise." Phil pauses, waiting for Dan to respond. When Dan nods, Phil adds, "And Dan?"

"What?"

Phil brings his other hand up to Dan's face, now with both hands on his cheeks, then slides them down to Dan's shoulders.

"You never have to keep stuff from me, alright? I'm—I'm messy and clumsy and—and you need to tell me if something annoys you."

The knot that was continuously tightening somewhere in Dan's chest suddenly releases its hold on him, and he smiles earnestly. Why was he ever scared of confronting Phil? It's Phil. Phil doesn't get mad.

"I'll try."

 

-

**2018**

 

Phil is still sleeping when something lands on his face. Something soft.

He opens his eyes with a start, blinking into the thing that is now covering his vision. Startled, he removes it and sees not one, but two of his fox socks. Then he sees Dan standing above him, and Phil can't see Dan's expression without putting on his glasses, but he can pretty much guess.

Phil doesn't say anything. He knows what is coming.

"What are your socks doing on the _coffee table_?!" Dan shouts, not wasting any time.

The coffee table. Well…

"Um, I dunno? Maybe I saved them there for later?" he replies. He grabs his glasses off the nightstand and puts them on.

"Save them on your fucking feet, Phil. _That's_ where socks go. Or in the drawers, or in the laundry. It's not rocket science. Actual years of this shit, I swear," Dan rants, and rants, and rants.

 

Phil _does_ feel a bit guilty. He _will_ try harder.

It never works, though. They both know it. It's a disease, a sock-disease.

"You know my mum is coming over later. What if I hadn't noticed them? What would I tell her? _Oh, sorry mum, it's just that Phil can't keep his socks in the_ —"

Phil, having heard all of this many times before, throws one of the socks up in Dan's face. Dan instantly falls completely silent, staring at Phil with shock in his eyes. And seeing that, Phil can't help it. He simply starts laughing.

It takes a moment, but Dan eventually joins him, laughing at the very thing that Phil knows has been driving him bonkers for years. It's not that Phil doesn't care. It's just one of the habits he can't seem to break.

Once they calm down, Phil is sitting up, Dan still standing over the bed. Dan is shaking his head, smiling at Phil with more fondness than he probably deserves right now.

Phil is lucky, really. Even if he gets woken up by socks on his face, he's lucky, so lucky. It's amazing that after years and years, Dan still manages to laugh when Phil throws his own socks back at Dan's face.

"I hate you," Dan says, then abruptly pulls the covers off of Phil. "Enough napping. Sort out the sock thing. I need to vacuum."

 

With an affectionate smile, Phil gets up and goes on a sock hunt. It's the least he can do after all these years.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and to an anon on tumblr for the prompt! :)  
> [Reblog it on tumblr if you liked it?](http://phanbliss.tumblr.com/post/181773977145/1)


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